OK. Let's not get bogged down in the back story. Emma was lovely and lively but we both agreed that we probably weren't going to settle down forever together. It was with Emma that I'd got a taste for independent travel. We'd done a little of it in Turkey. I've still got the Sumak rug we bought in Isparta. When we parted Emma got the choice of the rugs and there was no argument. I liked the Sumak better anyway.
Emma had already been talking about going travelling. She had friends who'd been out East and come back with fantastic stories. Emma wanted to sell the flat. We tried to sell it but the market was about to collapse. The best offer we got was about as much as we had paid for it 18 months previously. Taking into account the estate agents' fees and such like we'd have ended up out of pocket. We were effectively in negative equity so, without wishing to sound like some kind of wheeler dealer I persuaded Emma that the best that she could do would be to divest herself of her interest to me. I couldn't exactly buy her out. I mean, she would have had to pay me to take it off her hands. So in the end it was agreed that I'd take it on in my sole name and service the mortgage alone. Emma's aim was to get to Australia and find work there.
My decision to hit the road myself came while we were still living together. It was actually quite hard to tell that we weren't still a couple. We had to share the bed. The flat was so small there was no room to try to have separate rooms. It wasn't as if we hated each other.
I had by this time landed (or more accurately, been landed) with the new job. The Peter principle had kicked in. Simply by staying put at the Council I had been promoted to a job which was beyond the level of my competence. So I wasn't exactly very happy in my job. I liked my colleagues. Some of them may have resented the fact that I was in the job because it was quite well paid and they could tell that I was out of my depth. I didn't know what I was doing and they knew it. Mind you, I got the jobs that they didn't want or couldn't do either. I shudder when I think of the joint venture the Council was proposing with a former IBM executive tennis enthusiast to set up what was in effect an inflatable indoor tennis centre.
About this time someone started a Squash Ladder and (having enjoyed the game years before) I thought I'd take part. Games took place at lunchtime. So one lunchtime I went to play I can't remember who. In fact I probably didn't know my opponent. He was certainly better than me. Anyone who has ever played will know that it is very energetic and there is quite a bit of stretching and reaching for balls dropped short into the corners. This guy had me running all over the place and stretching to return one shot I pulled something in my back. I soldiered on gamely for a couple more rallies but there was no way I was going to "run it off". I conceded the match and went for my shower.
I managed to shower alright but afterwards sat down to put on my socks. I then found that trying to stand up caused an excrutiating muscle spasm in my lower back. I had to reach up to the grab a clothes hook to lift myself up onto my feet. The hook came off in my hand, but at least I was up.
I went back to the office. I sat down and couldn't get up (again). My colleagues were all very sympathetic and suggested I should go home. I didn't go immediately but I did leave early.
